


are you what you want to be?

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3201638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Carter tries to recruit Melinda May.</p>
            </blockquote>





	are you what you want to be?

**Author's Note:**

> originally for [peggy & jemma appreciation week](http://thepureprinciples.tumblr.com/post/107271074745/oooh-yay-okay-how-about-may-and-peggy-some-sort) on tumblr

Melinda May is well-trained, so she knows someone is tailing her. That’s why she enters the coffee shop. It’s crowded and loud, a hotspot for college students and young professionals needing caffeine to get them through Friday, the last stretch before temporary freedom.

Public place, for witnesses. Crowded, for cover. Loud enough to drown out private conversations but open enough for everyone to see everyone else. She orders a latte she won’t drink and sits at a recently vacated table, still littered with breadcrumbs. The breadcrumbs could be matted with blood soon. The latte could deliver second-degree burns to the face of the older woman who’s been following her around during the early morning.

Melinda picked up the tail in the park, midway through her dawn run. She doesn’t notice, however, until she leaves her mother’s house again, planning to go to the market but abandoning that dream quickly as she feels the tickle at the back of her neck. There are no normal mornings for Mel anymore. Not inside her head, at least. She has a decision to make.

No one else really sees it as a decision. Her mother, her mother’s colleagues, her mother’s agency – they all see a foregone conclusion. It is expected, so it is done.

Mel doesn’t know where she wants to be.

That’s why she lets the woman tail her for so long.

She’s heard rumors, legends. Everyone in the intelligence community knows her name, some know her face. Mel’s mother doesn’t know her face. Yet. But sometime in the next sixty seconds she’s going to sit down across from Melinda at this dirty Formica table and tell her a secret. A story. Tell her something. And it might change everything.

The barista comes to leave her latte in front of her, and she tries not to jump. She must be still; she must maintain control. Don’t be nervous. Nervousness is a disadvantage. Awareness is the prime advantage.

“Melinda May,” the woman says.

Mel looks forward, waits for her to sit to search her eyes.

She looks amused.

“Agent Carter,” Mel says. Her voice sounds a touch shy, and she curses herself for it.

“You can call me Peggy for this conversation. You don’t work for me yet.”

She can’t help it. Her eyebrows rise.

“You can call me presumptuous if you wish,” Peggy says. “But I’ve heard stories about you.”

“You’ve been following me,” Mel states.

“For longer than today, I’m afraid,” Peggy says. “You’ll get used to that feeling, no matter what organization you choose.”

“I could get into a lot of trouble for talking to you,” Mel says gravely. It’s true. No intelligence organization tolerates poaching. But Melinda has no contract outside of her birth certificate.

“I know that. I just want you to know your options, before your choose the only one you see out of obligation.” Peggy gives her a challenging look, and Melinda says nothing. She doesn’t want to admit that she might not be happy with what’s in front of her. Peggy continues: “You grew up with a mother in intelligence. You must have some idea about my organization.”

“You want to know what my mother thinks of SHIELD?”

“I want to know what _you_ think.”

It’s a very obvious appeal, and Agent Carter must know that Mel notices it. Gain her trust. Treat her as an individual. It’s manipulative, but it’s hardly hurtful. It’s kid stuff. Melinda dodges it anyway. “My mother thinks SHIELD stinks of American idealism and bravado. It’s microwaved espionage. No real substance.”

Peggy smirks. “That’s clever.”

“She thought so, too.”

“I like your mother. I’ve heard stories about her, too. She’s what they call a firecracker.”

“She is precisely that.”

“You love her,” Peggy says. It’s a fact.

“Naturally,” Melinda says, almost rolling her eyes. She doesn’t see the point.

“But you don’t want to follow her.”

Melinda goes still, and that definitely gives her away, but she’s still working on controlling her reactions. She tries a redirect: “What stories have you heard about me?”

Peggy follows her path: “I’ve heard that you’re a natural. I’ve heard that you’ve grown up watching your mother and her colleagues do business and that you’ve been a sponge-like observer. They tried to teach you things you already knew, just from growing up in this world.”

Melinda says nothing.

“I’ve heard you’ve had some radical moments. A few key choices of defiance. Choosing another path won’t be a complete surprise to anyone who truly knows you. But few do.”

Peggy leans forward.

“I’ve also heard you’re not the kind of person who wants to know exactly what their life is going to look like from start to finish. You know you can’t be a dutiful daughter and in control of your own destiny at the same time. You’ve always known this. But now it’s time to choose.”

“You’re manipulating me.” This is the only defense Melinda has to offer.

“I know,” Peggy says, sounding truly mournful. “And I’m sorry for it. But you’re a head above the rest. At least you know it’s happening.”

Melinda purses her lips. She doesn’t want to be so easily swayed, but the idea is magnetic. That’s probably the point.

Peggy rifles through her bag and produces a card, blank save for a hand-scrawled number.

“We have an academy, for training new recruits. You’d be part of the first graduating class, pioneering a new era of SHIELD’s history.”

“That sounds rather…uncertain.”

“But rather fun, I’d think,” Peggy murmurs, whisper of a smile on her face.

Peggy sets the card on the table and slides it to her, standing up to leave. Melinda sits up straight.

“Your latte is cold enough to be useless now,” she says. “I’m glad you didn’t dump it in my lap. Give us a ring if you’d like an adventure.” And she disappears in the swell of patrons, only the ding of the exit bell on the door a sign that she is truly gone.

Melinda picks up the card, pushing the cold coffee out of the way.

This is it. Time to choose.


End file.
